"Now, don't you think this is the most ridiculous institution on the face of the earth?" said Darrell, as he took his place beside her, for Conny had moved off discreetly at his approach.
"Which institution? Tea, pictures, people?"
"Their incongruous combination under the name of Show Sunday."
"Oh, I think it's fun. But then I have never seen the sort of thing before."
"You are greatly to be envied, Miss Lorimer."
"How lovely Phyllis is looking," cried Conny, who had joined Gertrude near the doorway; "she grows prettier every day."
"Do you think so?" answered Gertrude. "She looks to me more delicate than ever, with that flush on her cheek, and that shining in her eyes."
"Nonsense, Gerty; you are quite ridiculous about Phyllis. She appears to be amusing Mr. Darrell, at any rate. She says just the sort of things Mr. Lorimer used to. She is more like him than any of you."
"Yes." Gertrude winced; then, looking up, saw Mr. Oakley and a tall man standing before her.